The Outing of Santana Lopez
by Gleekallstar27
Summary: This story is basically what I wished would have happened with the Finn-outing-Santana storyline on glee. Mostly Santana, but some Brittana to come. Enjoy! x
1. Chapter 1

**(Long) Author's note: Okay, so basically, when the Finn-outing-Santana storyline started I was really excited for what was to come, 1) because for once (credit to Ryan Murphy), it is actually a great storyline and there is so much you can do with it, and 2)because Naya Rivera is such a great actress and I was glad she was getting more of a spotlight in the episodes. 'Mash Off' was actually one of my favourite episodes of glee ever. But then I saw I kissed a girl and I was really dissapointed. (Don't hate me.) I thought they kind of wrote the 'easiest' storyline possible, and the one that would give them the most songs to sell on itunes. I also didn't like the way Santana said, 'I told my parents last night, and they were actually ok with it.' She brushed it off like it wasn't a big deal, and telling your parents you are a lesbian should be a big deal. Whether they accept you or not, I don't think it is something that can be brushed off in one line. I was so dissapointed we didn't get to see the conversation she had with them, and I know she told her Grandma, but it just felt unrealistic to me. So I have decided to write the storyline I'd have liked to see. It is probably going to more dramatic than the show, but...I really hope you like it. And I'm sorry if anyone hates me after this speech :( **

**Disclaimer: I do not own glee or any of the characters. **

(Oh also, I know Santana told Dave Karofsky and Holly Holiday she was a lesbian, but for the sake of this, she has only told Brittany.)

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><p>"Why don't you just come out of the closet?"<p>

Santana stopped dead in the hallway, the world around her whirling into a daze, his voice and his words ringing in her ears.

How did he know? How did anyone know? Was it really that obvious? Brittany was the only one who knew. She _had_ to be the only one. It was her biggest secret.

"You know, I think I know why you're so good at tearing everybody else down."

Please stop talking. Please.

"It's because you're constantly tearing yourself down.'

Shut up. Please, please Finn.

"Because you can't admit to everyone that you're in love with Brittany…"

Why wouldn't her legs work? Why couldn't she run? Please let me run.

"…and she might not love you back."

No. Please. Her heart was being ripped to pieces by his words. Anything but that.

She wanted to scream at him. Tell him to stop. Screech in his face and hit him with a comeback so quick and so witty and so mean, that he would crumple in a heap from the amount of pain it caused him. She wanted him to suffer like she was suffering. But she was stuck. Rooted to the spot. Waiting and vulnerable, her biggest fears laid out on a plate in front of her.

"That must hurt, not being able to admit to yourself how you really feel."

Santana felt like she was going to be sick. Literally. How could he know this? How could he do this? How could he be spewing her most private and personal thoughts to the entire student body of McKinley High School without a care in the world? It was like he was opening a doorway to her mind, and just letting everybody wander in and take a casual look around. And the worst part was why it hurt so much. It was true.

Oh god. She was going to be sick.

"You know what I think you are…"

Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry, Santana.

Don't throw up.

"A coward."

Her whole world crashed down around her at his words. Tears brimmed at her eyes. Nausea crept through her body, building up inside her as her grief and worry took over, pounding, over and over again. And yet she was still frozen. Still waiting. Still listening. Replaying the conversation in her mind.

You're a lesbian. A lesbian.

Lesbian.

Lesbian.

Lesbian.

Lesbian.

And he knows.

She was screaming at herself, that word running circles around her. Ruining her life. And there was nothing there to stop it or to save her from its torture.

Everyone would know now.

Everyone.

"See you at the mash-off."

Santana's mouth fell open. She breathed for what seemed like the first time in years, gasping, taking in as much air as possible. Dizzily, she spun round and ran to the bathroom, pouring her guts out into the toilet, before falling against the cold, unforgiving tiles on the floor. She sat until the next bell rang, shaking, holding herself, her arms the only thing keeping herself together. The cubicle taunted her, growing smaller with every breath she took until she felt crushed and alone. Even then she could still hear those words, squeezing themselves inside her brain, taking up every inch of her being.

You're in love with Brittany.

And. She. Might. Not. Love. You. Back.

Then, as the bell rang, she stood, brushed herself off, smiled and unlocked the door. She washed her hands at the sink, tightened her pony, and walked out into the corridor, confident and carefree.

Finn Hudson could not touch her.

No matter how hard he tried to bring her down.

Not even when he used her biggest weakness against her.

She was Santana Lopez after all.

Whether she was in the closet.

Or out.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading! Please review and tell me what you think of it so far and whether I should continue! Thanks xxx<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who reviewed the story and to those who favourited it and put it on alert (don't really know how to say that.) Here is the next chapter, sorry it is so short, but it is just kind of a filler chapter, and also, I really wanted to put in some Brittana so...I hope you like it :)**

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><p>Santana strutted down the corridor, her fears weighing heavy on her shoulders, finding it hard to supress her worry. How many people had heard? Were they all watching her? Gossiping about things that were not theirs to talk about? She could still feel herself shaking as she walked forward, trying to act as though nothing had happened, trying to pretend her whole world hadn't just fallen down over a few crushing words. As she rounded towards her locker she saw Brittany standing waiting for her, and she breathed a sigh of relief. It was as if Brittany could take all her pain away with one glance, and from just looking at her Santana felt her heart surge and bound forward in excited leaps and jumps. It was a wonder she had managed to hide her true feelings from everyone for this long. Well, <em>thought <em>she'd managed to hide her feelings.

"Hey San! Where were you last lesson? I had to dissect the frog by myself but I didn't want to because I know Lord Tubbington will hate me if I ever hurt one of his animal friends and I tried to explain to Miss Lemony how Lord Tubbington will start smoking again if I upset him, but she just told me off for messing around, and cut up the frog anyway. It was so sad." Brittany looked over at her friend with tears in her eyes. Santana felt her own worries cloud over her again. She couldn't dump them on Brittany. Not today. Santana took Brittany's hand in her own, making sure to stand in front of their clasped fists so no one saw and looked straight at her friend. She hadn't found out what Finn had done yet.

"Britt I am so sorry. I just…I just was talking to Finn and…then I had a really good idea for the Troubletones Adele mash-up so I had to go and talk to Shelby, and then she asked me if I wanted to practice for a bit and I couldn't say no. I just wanted to make sure we were ready for Sectionals. I'm sorry, I should have come to tell you."

"Do you think he will hate me?"

"What?" Santana was confused. With her mind reeling all over the place it would have been hard to keep track of a normal conversation, let alone one of Brittany's. "Who?"

"Lord Tubbington?"

"What! No! Britt, he could never hate you!"

"All he needs is that one excuse…and then I'll catch him smoking again. He tries to hide the cigarette butts but I always find them. Like little firecrackers under his blanket."

"Britts, if he starts smoking again just call me. I'll go all Lima Heights, tell him straight up how angry he makes you. Believe me, you'll never have the problem again."

"Thanks San. Your amazing." Brittany's smile made her heart melt. If only she could kiss her. Right now, without the worry of everyone watching, or laughing, or whispering. If only it was that easy.

"Yeah. I've heard it before." Santana snapped her head to the side, giggling lightly, hiding the pain beneath. She had never felt so scared in her life, and it was almost impossible to hide her worries from Brittany. But she couldn't tell her. She just couldn't. Not yet. Santana swiftly snatched her hand back from Brittany's grasp, and reached into her locker, letting her hair fall over her face. It carefully covered a tear that had somehow leaked out onto her cheek, as the worry became too much.

If only it was that easy.

And then she realised.

Soon, it would be that easy.

And she wasn't ready yet.

She wasn't ready at all.

Oh god, she was going to be sick again.

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><p><strong>Thanks again and I will try to update as quickly as possible! Review! xxx<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Yes, I know I already updated this story today, but I just was so eager to post this chapter so…here it is. Thanks for reading, as always. xxx**

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><p>At the age of three her Abeula had explained to her that one day she would meet a man who was perfect for her. She would fall in love and would get married, and have children. She had been told that this was what people always did, and that it was the right thing to do, and Santana had believed her.<p>

At the age of six, her class had been reading a story in school about a mother and a father and a daughter and a son. Santana, questioning as always, had asked if all families were like that. The teacher had answered by telling her that some families had more than one son, or no sons at all, while others might have six daughters, and ten sons. When Santana had said that that was not what she had meant, that she had been asking whether all parents had to include one boy and one girl, the teacher had looked at her strangely, and had abruptly said,' Yes Santana, why would you ask such a question?' And if she was honest, Santana didn't know.

At the age of eight Santana had told her mother that the girl who sat next to her in class was very pretty, and that she wanted to be her best friend forever. Her mother had looked at her, and told her that she was the prettiest girl in the world and she didn't need to be jealous of anyone else. She also told Santana that it was important to make friends with girls because they were kind and nice, not because they were pretty and looked beautiful. She had told Santana to look for the beautiful qualities in boys, not girls. And Santana had sincerely accepted her words, without question.

At the age of ten, Santana had been watching the news with her Abeula when the gay pride parade had appeared on the screen. Her Abeula had grabbed the remote disgustedly, flicked the channel, whilst muttering rude words in Spanish under her breath. She had then turned dramatically towards Santana, and said very slowly, 'Santana. You must never be like that.' She then turned away and focused back on the TV, with Santana only left to think about her words, alone and confused.

By the age of twelve, Santana knew that she was different. She didn't know why, and she didn't know how, but she just knew. While most of her friends were giggling about holding hands with boys, she just wished she could hold hands with her. With Brittany. She didn't tell anyone. She just accepted that it was a phase, and stuck to making sure she giggled at the right moment, and blushed about the right guy. It was easy. For a while.

When she was thirteen, she said the word aloud. Lesbian. It tasted bitter in her mouth, and weighed on her so heavy and so darkly, that it took over her entire body. It got caught in her throat, and made her feel so sick and upset that she tried to bury it beneath everything else. For most of the time it stayed there sensible and forgotten, but occasionally it would slip out and scare her, a worry so deeply seeded that she could convince herself it wasn't true.

When she was fourteen, she cried herself to sleep for the first time. It wasn't the last time.

When she was fifteen, she wondered if she'd ever accept herself. She doubted it. She hated it so much. Sometimes the worry took over her so quickly and so suddenly, that she would have to go and lie down. Other times the lies just fell off her tongue. But she couldn't lie to herself forever. She knew that.

When she was fifteen, seven months and 3 days old, Brittany kissed her. And she knew. She couldn't lie anymore. But she still felt sick at the thought of being one of them. It was wrong. And a sin. Wasn't it?

When she was sixteen, she said it. "I think I'm a lesbian." It was into a mirror, and no one else was there, but it was still scary, and she still shook as the words tumbled out of her mouth before she could force them back in again. She couldn't hide anymore. She felt like all her feelings were going to burst out of her any minute. But she had to hide. Oh god she hated herself. Why? Why me? She had asked countless times. But she never got an answer. She was so alone. So alone. And sometimes she wondered when someone was going to come and find her.

At the age of sixteen, one month and 73 days old, Santana had had sex with Brittany. It had just happened so naturally that she hadn't had time to think about it. She hadn't meant it to. But it had happened. And she had loved it. It had been the best day of her life. But it had also been the worst. Back at her house, she threw up so violently that she had collapsed in a state on the floor, lying in a puddle of her tears for over the three hours before her mother had found her and tucked her up in her bed, muttering concerned words about having a fever and working too hard. Santana didn't regret what she'd done. But she regretted telling Brittany it didn't mean anything. And she regretted enjoying it. And she regretted feeling as if she had finally found the person she was meant to be. Because she hated that person. And she hated what it had done to her. And she felt guilty for the feelings that lingered in her heart every time she saw her face. And she felt ashamed of herself for wanting to do it again. Because it was a sin. It was. And she wasn't meant to be like this. She wasn't meant to fall in love with a girl. But she had. And now she couldn't fall back out of love again. It was like some sick joke, and she really couldn't wait to hear the punch line. There had to be punch line. She couldn't live like this forever. Oh God, please not forever.

_Help me._

"Are you kidding? Its better when it's without feelings."

"Sex isn't dating." "If it was Santana and I would be dating."

"I'm not ready for that kind of public announcement."

"I'm afraid of what people will say behind my back."

"You said that I play for another team on your ridiculous melted cheese show."

"Is that supposed to say Lesbian?"

"I love you Santana."

"Why don't you just come out of the closet?"

_Please help me, God. Please._

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><p><strong>Review! And I will keep the story rolling :)<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry I haven't updated for so long. I have just been so busy, and I also wanted to think about where this story was going before I carried on so once again, I am so sorry! And please continue to review. Thank you xxx**

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><p>She was going to tell them. Tonight. She couldn't let them find out from anyone else, especially not from someone like Finn Hudson who seemed intent on ruining her life in every way possible. She had promised herself that she would do it. She had to do it. <em>Dear God, please give me the strength to do it.<em>

But as she stepped onto the front step of her house and pulled her key out of her bag, keyring complete with a picture of her and Brittany printed on it, she began to doubt herself. The air around her slowly became thicker and heavier, and, struggling to breathe, she leant against the doorframe, closing her eyes and trying to control the panic that was rising in her gut. Her hands came to her face as her head fell back against the wall. _Come on Santana. You are not a coward. Don't let Finn Hudson be right. Prove him wrong. Prove everyone wrong. You can do this. You can do this. _She slid down to the floor, her mouth dry and her forehead clammy at the prospect of what she had to do. She gripped her knees tightly, desperately searching for something to cling onto that was real. _You are not a coward._

Suddenly, the latch on the door clicked open, and it slid backwards, the small but frighteningly powerful figure of her mother peering out from behind its dark, looming frame.

"Santana, what an earth are you doing?"

_You can do this._

"Mamá! Sorry, I just felt really sick all of a sudden. I had to sit down."

_Come on Santana._

"How long have you been sitting here?"

"Is Papá home?"

"Not yet…Santana don't ignore my questions. You didn't skip school today did you?"

_Believe me I wish I had._

"No Mamá. I told you, I just had a funny turn, that's all. Did you say he wasn't home?"

"Yes, I did say that."

Santana breathed a sigh of relief. She had to tell them when they were both together. Tonight obviously just wasn't the night.

"Oh. Well, I think I'm okay now. So, I'll just head up to my room." Santana heaved herself up, hoping she wouldn't collapse onto the petite frame of her mother. She felt drained and exhausted. She needed to lie down.

"Well Santana, your Abeula is coming round tonight. I hope you will be polite enough to join us for dinner."

"Yes Mamá!" She raced wearily up the stairs, forcing her feat forward into her bedroom. She hastily shut the door, and collapsed onto her bed.

And then she let go.

_.../.../.../.../..._

_The world was crashing in on her, crumbling around her. Her heart heaved in her chest, so heavy it felt as though it was dragging her like an anchor to the bottom of an ocean of despair, holding her there, pinning her to the ground while the earth spun in a dream around her. She was drowning and choking in fear, her own pain attacking her from all over; slashing her, pounding her, scarring her. But she couldn't move. She was stuck. And she was dying._

_Help me._

_.../.../.../.../..._

It wasn't long until Brittany heard. News spread quickly at McKinley High.

"Santana are you okay?"

"What, yeah I'm fine Britt. Why?"

"It's just, apparently Finn told you to come out of the closet…in front of everyone."

_Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god._

"Yeah he did."

_Hold it together Santana. _

"But it's not a big deal."

"It's not a big deal?"

"No. I'm fine."

"Okay. If you're sure then..."

"Britt will you just leave it! I said I'm fine!"

"I didn't say anything."

"Please be quiet."

_Oh god. She could feel them, slowly leaking down her face, sliding over her cheeks, dripping into her clasped hand. Tears. _She turned away from Brittany and took a deep breath.

"Santana," Brittany waited to be told off, but nothing came. "It's okay to be scared."

"I s-said I'm fine."

Brittany spun Santana to face her.

"And I said, it's okay to be scared." Then she engulfed her in a hug, and Santana hid her face behind Brittany's neck, breathing in her sweet, comforting scent and letting go, just for a moment. For that one second, she felt safe and free from the world, as her tears ran down her face and onto Brittany's, binding them together. But only for a second. She knew if she gave into her worries now, she would never be able to stop crying. If she gave into her worries she would completely lose control. And Santana Lopez never lost control. Somehow, she managed to pull away. It took all the strength and bravery she had, but she did manage it, plunging herself back into the real world, alone. Without Brittany's arms around her she felt completely lost, unsafe in a world where words could cut you so deeply that they scarred you for life. Brittany's arms were like a safety harness, and without them she could feel herself falling into the pit of terror below, just waiting to swallow her up.

_Please hold me again. Please._

But she had to let go.

"Thanks Britt. I really am alright. I just need some time that's all. But hey, soon we'll be able to hold hands, without having to cover them with a napkin!" She tried to smile, but it wasn't very convincing. Brittany attempted to take Santana's hand in her own but Santana shook her head slowly, hoping she wouldn't fall apart.

"I said soon, but not yet. Come on, let's go to the mash-off. We need to ends those New Directions!" Her mouth turned upwards weakly, and she tried as hard as she could to look straight into Brittany's concerned eyes and reassure her that she was alright, but she could tell that her own were swimming with her lies.

"Santana…"

"Britt, don't worry. Please. I really am ok."

Santana knew she could lie. She had been lying to herself her whole life. But it was almost always impossible to lie to Brittany. Almost always.

How she managed to choke those words out she would never know. But one thing she did know was that she wished with all her heart that she could have said something entirely different.

.../.../.../.../...

"Rock, Paper, Scissors!"

Damn, why did she have to pick paper against Finn's stupid rock. God, she was so angry. It was as if the universe was trying to remind her that she was that she was never going to be the winner, no matter how hard she tried. _Well, thanks a lot_. She gave him her best death stare, before reeling round to face Brittany and the rest of the Troubletones. At least now they could get New Direction's measly attempt at a mash-up out of the way, before blowing them out of the park with their Adele masterpiece. Yeah that's right Finn Hudson, you might think you've won, but Santana Lopez won't stand for being the loser. God, she could kill him. Literally. She just hoped for both his sake, and for her own sake, that he would stay well away from her.

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><p><strong>Thank you once again, and please, please, please review! It means so much so, please! And sorry for not updating, I really will try to be quicker xxx<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Okay, I actually have a lot of this story written out, it's just in order to update it, I have to proof read it, which is the bit I hate the most. So that is why I keep taking so long to update! And I am soooo sorry. I really will try harder to update more quickly, especially now I am on holiday and not in school. Also, this is not my best chapter…I am still not 100% happy with it, but I feel bad for not updating in such a long time, so sorry if it is not very good in advance. Thanks for reading, I really am grateful xxx**

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><p>Santana was so confused about her feelings. She had been playing straight for so long now, that it was becoming so easy to fit into the mould. She wondered if it would be easier to just pretend forever.<p>

She had thought that she had been covering it well, but somehow, people had started to notice. Finn Hudson had noticed. The most idiotic human being she had ever met. And now he was using it as a weapon to hurt her.

If he had managed to figure it out, who else had?

It was all Santana could do to take out her pain and worry and anger on Finn. In her mind, everything was his fault. Everything, not just the outing. Somehow, every night, he made her mother talk about husbands and grandchildren and perfect family celebrations, reminding her that she was not the perfect daughter everyone wished for. Somehow, he had made Santana waste all of her birthday wishes, wishing she was someone else. Somehow he had created feelings inside her that she just couldn't change, no matter hard she tried. How he had done all of this, Santana could not explain, but in her mind it was him. And she hated that. She needed someone to blame, someone to hate, and Finn was so easy to take down.

"You really should stop being so mean to Finn," Brittany told her. But she couldn't, she needed a target, and anyway, it was Finns fault she was in this mess, his fault her world was spinning out of her control.

"Manatees have really thick skin." Pretty good. She silently complimented herself on her witty remark. It felt good to be in control of something. She couldn't control her feelings, she couldn't control her outing, and she certainly couldn't control Finn Hudson, but she could hurt him, she could get under his skin, taunt him until he snapped right beneath her. That was something she could control.

Becky Jackson rounded the corner towards the two girls, her eyes fixed on Santana.

"Santana, Coach Sue wants to see you."

_Oh god. She couldn't know could she?_ Brittany threw Santana a confused look.

With a sinking heart, Santana waved goodbye to Brittany and headed towards the coaches office.

Somehow, deep down she knew something was going to go wrong. She could just feel it in the air around her, see it in the faces of the three concerned adults waiting for her, hear it in the deafening silence that filled the room. It was not good.

…/…/…/…

Santana's heart was pounding so hard in her chest so she thought it might knock her out of her seat, as her world collapsed around her. Tears were streaming down her face and yet the video kept playing, over and over, never ending. A big arrow pointed her out as a lesbian, pointing at her own smiling face, and tearing her apart like a sharp, pointed spear. She could literally feel herself being sawn open, her terror and fear building up in her body, burning her from the inside out. It was as though someone had reached inside her and stolen her worst nightmare, just to paint it out in front of her so everyone could see. Only this was no nightmare. This was real life. And she wasn't going to wake up.

Mr Schue stared at Santana, the viscous yet charming girl he had known for over two years, and wished he could comfort her in some way. He had never seen her so broken. As her face crumpled into a picture of despair, he leant over to take her hand, but she remained frozen on her seat, not letting anyone in, just staring at the now blank screen. He didn't know what to say.

"I can't believe this is happening," Santana cried out in disbelief, shaking her head slightly, hoping that in some way it would all just disappear, this room, those sympathetic eyes staring at her from every corner, the cold dark walls and especially that cold, dark screen.

"I'm so sorry." Sue knew it wasn't enough.

"I haven't even told my parents yet!"

Oh God. She wasn't even sure yet. She wasn't even sure. She gasped a breath and sprinted out of the room, running and running, away from herself, her feelings, and that label she had been given. Lesbian.

"Santana!" Will ran out of the door, following the girl, with Burt Hummel close at his heels. He had no idea what she would do.

"Santana wait!" Frantically, he looked around, peering into every classroom, racing into both the girls and the boys toilets, kicking open the cubicle doors before shaking his head, and sprinting away. As he moved down the corridor, he became more and more worried. And then he saw her. A broken pile curled up on the floor, sobbing and shaking, her head on her knees, her hand covering her mouth, sitting in the doorway of the janitor's closet. Burt Hummel held his hand up in front of Mr Shue, stopping him in his tracks, and stepped forward slowly. He pressed his back against the wall, Mr Shue stayed a few paces away, and gently sat himself down next to Santana. She didn't acknowledge his presence, but she let him take her hand in his. They sat in silence for a few minutes, tears pouring down her face, dripping from her eyelashes, and falling into her lap. She made no attempt to brush them away. If she was truthful, she couldn't remember how. Burt reached over, carefully sliding her hair out of her eyes and tucking it behind her ear. It had fallen out of its pony tail in the commotion.

"Santana, I am so sorry."

"Yeah well, thanks a lot."

"I know it's hard Santana."

"No you don't, you have no idea how…" Her words, which had meant to be strong, fell from her lips so weakly they got caught in her throat. She couldn't even finish.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"You don't understand…you don't understand. I'm not even sure yet, if I am, what I am."

"Santana…"

"I'm not even sure." She turned to look at him. "Why? Why would this happen to me? What have I done?" Her voice suddenly went quiet. "I haven't even told them." He looked back into her eyes and felt his stomach fall to the floor in worry and pain for the girl. How he wished he could help her. No one should be this scared. "And now they're going to find out through a stupid commercial. No, I have to tell them. I have to. Before they see it. But I can't. I just can't." Her head fell down.

"I've tried." She said weakly. "But it is _so_ hard."

She could barely breathe through the waterfall of tears that were cascading down her face.

"I know."

She turned and looked into his eyes, searching desperately.

"Tell me what to say. Just tell me. And I'll say it. Just tell me." He was lost.

"Please," She was almost begging him now, her voice cracking. "Please."

He wrapped his arms around her and caught her in a tight hug, not knowing what else to do.

"How will they accept me if…if I can't even accept myself."

"They might…"

"You don't know them."

"There's always hope Santana. The world might seem dark right now, but there's always light. Always."

"You don't know them."

"It's going to be alright."

"How can I believe you?"

He took her face in his hand, cupping her chin, and looked straight into her eyes.

"I promise you Santana, it is going to be alright. And I never break my promises."

He let her head fall into his lap once again, and stroked her hair, comforting her awkwardly. He had never had a daughter.

She stayed silent for a few minutes, just lying there in his arms, reassured by the rhythm of his hand soothing her mind which was spinning out of control.

"I wish it was you."

"Wish what was me?"

"I wish you were my Papá. Kurt is so lucky."

"He had it bad too. I remember how scared he was about telling me. It took a lot. But the relief he felt…I could see in his eyes how much had been lifted off his shoulders."

"If they…If they don't…don't accept me." She paused, and then shook her head, "I don't know what I'll do." She pulled away from him for a second and suddenly the worry got too much for her and she lunged forward, her hand slapping her mouth.

"Oh god, I think I'm going to be sick." Mr Schue, who had been casually standing in the corner, suddenly had purpose and whipped round, grabbing a bucket that was carefully positioned behind him. He shoved it in front of her, as Burt gathered her hair behind her face, holding it out of the way. She poured all of her worries out into that bucket, her fear and her pain and her sorrow, and was left feeling so empty she wondered whether she was going to disappear. She couldn't talk for a few moments and just leant back against the wall, her hands tapping the floor at her sides.

"I'm sorry. Sorry you had to see that."

"Don't be."

She could still see the bucket. She tried to push it, and its contents of worry and terror, out of the way with her foot, but just succeeded in making it wobble slightly. She turned her face away from it.

"It's just…I'm so scared…I think they'll throw me out." Her voice shook as she told him, but somehow she felt safe, like she could tell him anything. She trusted him.

"Santana, you are always welcome at my house. If anything happens, you can count on me. That's another Burt Hummel promise. And I don't give out a lot, so count yourself lucky."

She lifted her head, and smiled a little up at him. She felt so weak, she didn't know if she'd be able to get up. She imagined a life, just sat here forever, in this grotty janitor's closet with Burt Hummel, Mr Schue and no Brittany. Brittany! Oh god, Brittany. She needed to see her so badly. She had to tell her what had happened. Right now. She had to tell her.

"I have to find Brittany!"

Mr Schue looked down at her, concerned. "She'll be at the mash-off."

"The mash-off! I completely forgot. Help me up, I have to go and perform."

"Santana, you just threw up, I don't think…"

"Mr Schue, help me up right now so I can go and whip your New Directions many, and in Finn's case very large, butts."

Reluctantly he reached down and grabbed her hand, as Burt helped her up from behind. Now on her feet, she realised that maybe she should have stayed there a bit longer. God, she felt dizzy. She held onto Burt's arm with as much force as she could muster up, hoping she wouldn't fall over.

"Believe me, I'm absolutely fine. Are they in the auditorium?" She had to see Brittany, she couldn't wait any longer.

"Yes, it's just…maybe we should postpone the performance."

Burt studied the girl who was gripping his arm so tightly he was sure it was going to leave a bruise, and then turned to Will. He lowered his voice and spoke directly into his ear.

"Let her go. She needs something to take her mind off everything that has happened."

"Okay Santana, if you're sure you're okay. I guess we'll see you there then."

"Actually, could you walk me down? I just…" She trailed off.

"Of course, my lady." Burt grinned. "It would be my pleasure."

"Thank you." She smiled at him gratefully and then lowered her voice so only he could hear, "For everything."

"Just don't forget those promises."

"I won't. I won't. I promise." She laughed and it felt strange in her throat. Unusual almost, like it didn't belong, like she wasn't meant to be happy. But Santana didn't stick to the rules. She didn't listen to what she was meant to do and who she was meant to be. It just wasn't her. It never had been and it never would be.

…/…/…/…

"Brittany, Britt!"

The blonde whipped around to face Santana, panic in her eyes.

"Santana, where have you been? Miss Corcoran has been going crazy, we are supposed to be on stage in 2 minutes and people keep disappearing. Mr Shue isn't even here!"

Burt Hummel, who was still holding Santana up, prised her hand from his arm, nodded and walked off. Santana smiled at him as he left.

"Dad what are you doing here?" Kurt had suddenly appeared backstage.

"Nothing Kurt. I have to get back. I'll talk to you at home." He gave Kurt a look, before walking off through the door.

Miss Corcoran rushed around the corner, a costume slung over her arm.

"Santana! Thank goodness, where on earth have you been?

"I was…I was just…"

"No time to explain, you need to get on stage, go and change."

Santana took the dress slowly, trying to remember why she had left the janitors closet. Everything was too overwhelming here. She couldn't tell Brittany. What had she been thinking?

"Santana! Quick. Hurry up. We're all waiting."

"Sorry…I just…"

Brittany was looking at her with concerned eyes, suddenly noticing the tear tracks down her face.

"San are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Don't worry." She moved fast then, away from Brittany and behind a curtain that had been hung loosely to create a make-shift changing room. She couldn't face her yet. Outside, she could hear Kurt explaining that he had been sent backstage to say that Mr Shue had returned and needed to speak to Miss Corcoran urgently.

"Kurt, I'm busy…I'll have to talk to him after."

Santana swiftly pulled the dress on and burst out from behind the curtain. She couldn't have Mr Shue telling Miss Corcoran anything. She didn't want anyone else feeling sorry for her.

"I'm ready. Let's perform."

"San…your make-up…" Brittany was pointing to the mascara that was staining her cheeks.

"It's fine Britt. Just leave it." She snapped, attempting to wipe the black mess away with the back of her hand.

"San, really, what's happened?"

"Yeah, what were you doing with my Dad?" Kurt butted in.

"And why were you late?" One of the Troubletones stepped forward. "You knew this performance was important."

Suddenly everyone was looking at her. Even Shelby had stopped rushing around, and was waiting for an answer. She didn't know what to say.

"I…erm…I….just…" _Don't cry again. Don't._

"Are you going to perform for us any time today ladies?" Mr Shue popped his head around the door, and everyone's attention was suddenly drawn away. Santana breathed deeply in relief, and stepped backwards, wiping furiously at her face with her hand.

"Yes, come on girls, on stage, come on." She motioned forward with her hand. "Santana, I'll talk to you after."

Santana just nodded at her teacher, as she stepped onto the stage, making sure not to look at Brittany.

"Shelby?"

Shelby whipped around to face Mr Shuester, as the girls filed onto the stage. Santana froze in panic, turning back, trying to listen. _Please don't say anything._

"Just go easy on Santana, she…"

One of the Troubletones pushed Santana forward and she just couldn't quite catch what Mr Shue was saying. She silently begged that someone would stop him before he could tell Miss Corcoran what had happened. She wanted to run off and intervene but she knew she had to be professional; she couldn't show anyone that she was upset. She stood in the middle, facing the back of the stage as the music began. She felt sick, but not with nerves, just with _everything._ It was too much. As she spun around, she peered out at her friends sat in the seats in front of her. Would they still be her friends once they knew?

She looked at Finn, her eyes glued to him. He had absolutely no idea what he had done.

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks again for reading! Please review, I love to hear feedback, good or bad, because I really want to improve my writing as well, and I love to hear what you think. So review! xxx<strong>


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